Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Waterhounds howl!

 Frankie is already acquainted with the Chemung and loves to wade.  Downstream from Elmira, the water is less silty, and a bit wilder.  Sarah is having her first real dip and enjoyed the trip back much better than the trip out.
VeggiGirl herds the waterdogs through the shallows.  The little city of Elmira is in the background.  We are just barely inside city limits, returning from Jones Island.
We are enjoying one of the last days that Jones Island is accessible, before several days of rain and storms coming from the Southwest.  We can expect the river to swell.  We would still be able to wade, but the current would make it difficult.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Getting there!

Today was Sarah, the RiverHound's first trip to the Grove Street Fishing Access.  She loved it, especially all the new scents.  Didn't seem all that excited about the water;  it was very cold.

Unfortunately, our little doggie is car-unfriendly.  She needs a diaper for any trip and will vomit on longer ones.  I am teaching her to associate the diaper with the Chemung River.  It comes off when she exits the car.

Grove Street is parallel to Walnut, which is to say that the Walnut St. Bridge is part of the whole experience of the Fishing Access.  Very noisy:  Sarah will need to get used to the sounds.

A new feature of the Access is the increased gull population.  Downtown Elmira has proved hostile to the birds, and collects their eggs.  The gulls now prefer to avoid the Main Street Bridge area.

No matter.  There is plenty of river, and Sarah is becoming enured to the screeching, along with the incessant honking by the geese.

It will take some time, but I believe our Hound is Happy with the river front.

Little Pond

Friday, December 14, 2012

Good bye from the River Hag.

On a brightly sunny morning, Ellie and I returned to her favorite shore near the Gateway of the Chemung River. Her ashes were scattered to the wind and onto the water, right where she loved to swim. We were watched only by a lone eagle and three inquisitive gulls, who checked to see if anything good was being offered.
The Chemung will never feel the same for me. And I am no longer the River Hag with her familiar, a little brindle digger-dog, hunter-dog, RiverDog.
Birders and Hikers: don't give your heart to a faithful four-footed follower.
She'll break your heart too soon, for sure. Far too soon.
Little Pond

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Rest in Peace, RiverDog

E l l i e
June 1, 2002 - November 24, 2012

My Huggamutt Cuddlebum

See you in the morning, Little One.

Love RiverHag

Saturday, October 13, 2012


Went to the Grove Street fishing access today to walk Ellie.  She is doing well and I wanted to walk her in the full sunshine.

The visit was immediately ruined by the sight of a goose caught in fishing line.  All tangled and caught around its wings and tail.  Probably it's legs too.

There wasn't much I could do. Ellie got that chilled, tail between the legs look.  I picked her up and took her to the car.  When I got there, I didn't have the keys.  I went back, but the geese were all in the water.

The snared goose can't fly, but it can swim.  The others avoid it, presumably because they can see it is in distress and they are avoiding the line.

I took a picture.  I found my keys.  I brought my dog home.

There didn't seem to be much I could do.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Foggy September

I never thought about this until recently.  It takes a very low river to warm up enough to fog in September mornings.  In this dammed area, the water is still quite deep.  Further upstream and downstream from the dam, one can easily cross the Chemung on foot.
This spunky fellow had taken up residence at the mouth of Hoffman Creek. I am willing to bet we will see him all winter.

Monday, August 20, 2012

As usual, I was walking the RiverDog down to Foster Island, when I spotted what appeared to be an eagle in the distance.

I began taking quick shots.  River Dog has a way of scaring off my quarry.

The bird turned and I could see the bill, curved.  Had to be an eagle.  Wrong color.
Now I was excited.  Dark mottled back and no white tail or head usually means osprey.

Unfortunately, the osprey was not thrilled to be photographed, especially just perched quietly.  It lifted and left.

I could almost swear that this fellow is banded.  Any thoughts, anyone?